Breaking

This outward appearance is a shell.

It’s fragile. Delicate. Cracking.

Within…I’m crumbling.

I’m finding it difficult to fight back the tears at the sight of your picture. The daily passing of your grave.

When embracing your little brother…it hurts. I’m watching him grow, and it’s painful. This intense love is hard. This major loss is a blow.

I’m exhausted. This fight, at times, feels unbearable. I’m trying. I’m going. I’m desiring to live.

To thrive.

To EXIST.

But I’m lacking. I’m waning. Right now, I’m just weak. Every emotion is raw and laid bare.

I look downward as I walk, pulling myself within. I want to hide it all. I want to escape the triggers. I want to erase the pain. I want to forget the memories. I fear, that if I let it rise to the surface, it will take over me…and I won’t be able to function.

I NEED TO BE ABLE TO FUNCTION.

I miss you! I should be joyful today. Celebrating today. Remembering you today. This is such a special feast day for your namesake. But, instead, I find myself filled with sadness and longing. Pining for your touch. Yearning for your face. Aching for your body.

Small things. Great love.

My Small Thing. My Great Love. Please see me. Hear me. Pray for me. Your momma is feeling a little lost right now.

On my behalf, beg God to give me strength. I don’t want to break.

Give yourself to God. He will use you to accomplish great things on the condition that you believe much more in His love than in your own weakness.

(Saint Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.)